


How to explain

by Bersenev



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anxiety, Autism Spectrum, Bullying, Character Study, Depression, Family Issues, General talk about suicide as a concept, Getting better slowly, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, bonding over said mental health issues, no for forever tropes, strangers to friends to boyfriends, toxic thoughts, unhealthy coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-10-29 09:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17805440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bersenev/pseuds/Bersenev
Summary: Connor sits in a park with the intention to end things. Because why shouldn't he? All attempts he has made at explaining himself have fallen on deaf ears.There's not a single reason to hesitate, to not swallow the pills.It's just that there's a letter in his pocket that feels like it might be straight out of his brain.It's just that he didn't write the letter.It's just that maybe it was okay that he wasn't able to explain himself because there might be a person that understood him anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what this is? I've been writing all evening and somehow I felt like starting this because Connor is a nice character to vent through.  
> Like most of my fics this isn't currently proofread, but I'll try to get around to it at some point.
> 
> Anyway please be careful when you read this. The tags are there for a reason and despite this fanfic being told in third person it is still about Connors perspective and he's not the most reliable narrator.
> 
> Stay safe and don't be like Connor if you feel like this. Talk to a professional or someone close to you.
> 
> That being said, I hope you still enjoy reading this in some way if you decide to proceed

How does one explain that they’re waging a war against their own mind every day of their life since they were small?  
  
That every day it gets a little harder to hold on, to feel like there’s something worth holding on to?  
  
That it felt like your brain didn’t belong to yourself because there was you and there was that thing inside you that took over your actions, your thoughts, your life and reigning it in got harder and harder?  
  
How does one explain that the future stopped being reassuring and instead filled one with dread, with the need to end it now so the pain could end?  
  
Or the need to lash out at everyone around because there’s so much pain and anxiety and anger stored inside oneself and sometimes directing all of that towards oneself isn’t enough?  
  
How can one explain any of that, because Connor Murphy tried doing it so often and he stopped counting the times he failed.  
  
The times he’s been told to stop making up excuses, stop acting out for attention, stop being so lazy, crazy, wrong.  
  
He has lost count and he was so tired of it.  
  
Nobody had ever told him that being himself would be like this.  
  
Because he remembers being young and dressing up as Spiderman and telling jokes and then suddenly other boys are mocking him and he tries to defend himself but all people see is a boy that’s acting out for no reason.  
  
He doesn’t know at which point he stopped fitting in and got isolated from everyone else.  
  
All he knows is that he tried so hard to not be left behind.  
  
How he wanted to be ringleader because maybe the others would like him again, but he heard the whispers around him, the insults people said behind his back. He heard the teachers talk about him, call him a problem child.  
  
He didn’t get to be ringleader.  
  
He remembers being upset and walking outside crying, possibly screaming at the others to stop staring at him! Stop muttering behind his back! Just stop laughing!  
  
The next days there where whispers about how he threw a printer.  
  
He hadn’t. He swears he hadn’t but his parents got a call from his teacher anyway. Not about the printer, about how he just walked out of class.  
  
It still made the whispers worse and his parents, always so concerned with appearances, wondered why these rumors could even spread in the first place.  
  
They were so easy to convince that Connor was the problem.  
  
Things kept spiralling out of control from that day onward, because his classmates kept bullying him and he refused to back down and in the end it was always him that was blamed for it.  
  
His parents kept lecturing him and he tried so hard to explain that he wasn’t doing anything back. He wasn’t the one starting those fights. He wasn’t the one they should be scolding.  
  
They didn’t believe him and Connor, so frustrated from not being listened to, of being falsely accused, snapped.  
  
He yelled and threw a tantrum and his parents just took it as another proof that something was wrong with him.  
  
How does one explain that they’re not trying to act out, that they’re not trying to pick fights, that they didn’t even know why others kept bullying them, when their parents refused to acknowledge anything they say?  
  
Because a Murphy doesn’t get bullied.  
  
A Murphy has to be perfectly presentable, has to be liked be everyone around them and if they’re not they’re doing something wrong.  
  
At first Connor had thought he could deal with it, back when Zoe was on his side.  
  
Back when she would give him colourful band-aids whenever he returned from school with scratches and would sneak him dessert after a fight with their parents.  
  
Before she stopped wanting to be associated with him because she didn’t want her classmates to say bad things about her behind her back.  
  
Before things at home got more and more messed up and their parents were so busy trying to fix Connor and blame him that they stopped properly paying attention to Zoe.  
  
Before she became an afterthought and had to fight to get out of his shadow and nothing he could do made it better.  
  
Because how does one explain that they didn’t mean for any of this to happen to their baby sister? That they didn’t mean for people to whisper around her brother behind her back, making her try to prove that she’s different. That they didn’t mean to take up so much space that all they wanted was to not be treated as a problem.  
  
Zoe had been a constant in his life and she had tried so hard to hold onto him but he kept getting more and more withdrawn and angry and insecure and he kept pushing her away because he knew that being around him would make people talk.  
  
And he had tried so hard to hold onto her despite everything but she kept getting more and more frustrated and sad and angry and she kept pushing him away because she didn’t want to be the same as him.  
  
They couldn’t hold onto the time back in the orchard when they played tag and Connor taught her how to tie her shoelaces.  
  
He remembers his parents berating him again. He remembers how Zoe yelled at him afterwards, asking him why he couldn’t just be normal. He remembers crying and yelling back because nobody listened to him.  
  
They kept fighting after that.  
  
In his mind Zoe became just another enemy dedicated on making him feel as miserable as possible, because at some point anger became so much easier to deal with than he constant pain and sadness and feeling of betrayal.  
  
  
How does one explain any of this?  
  
Because Connor has tried so hard, so often and it did nothing but give him more reasons to build more walls around himself to keep him separated from the world.  
  
Because the years passed and it stopped being just a battle between himself and his classmates and family and instead became an internal war he fought against himself.  
  
Because he’s sitting on a park bench at night, wondering if he could have done anything differently, could have somehow changed this outcome.  
  
Because it felt so inevitable that he’d end up here, with this letter, with these pills.  
  
He doesn’t know how to explain any of the things that went through his head while he’s sitting there in the dark, but maybe...  
  
The letter he had shoved into his jeans pocket was crumpled up badly from how Connor had crushed it in his hands, prepared to throw it away, just to read it again and repeat the action and then finally shove it into his pocket on his way out of the house.  
  
He wasn’t sure if the words were still legible after everything the paper had to endure.  
  
The thought felt uncomfortable in his brain, a bit too close to a metaphor about himself, so he discarded it.  
  
The thought.  
  
Not the letter.  
  
It was too dark to actually read it but Connor knew the words by heart at this point. He hadn’t meant to reread it so often.  
  
At first he was just angry and reread it to fuel that anger, because the anger was what kept him going through all the mockery, all the insults and pranks.  
  
It didn’t take long for the anger to cool down, for Connor to relate to what has been written.  
  
In a way, it felt weirdly intimate, intrusive, as if someone had looked inside his brain and decided to write a fucked up note about the contents of it.  
  
That thought fueled the anger again for a short moment, made him decide to bring the letter with him to the park, so maybe it would be found with him.  
  
He didn’t know if he wanted to punish Evan with that or if he just felt as if the letter summed up his feelings well enough to act as his suicide note.  
  
Maybe both.  
  
It didn’t matter either way because Connor was sick of going on like this.  
  
He wouldn’t ever be able to successfully explain any of the things he so desperately wanted to, he wouldn’t ever get better, so what was the point?  
  
Nobody would ever understand.  
  
So why was he still hesitating?  
  
He had come to the park with an intention and yet all he has done so far was sit around and reminisce about his life and choices.  
  
His gaze dropped back onto the letter, making his brows crease as he tried wrapping his mind around the current situation.  
  
Maybe he couldn’t explain any of the things to the people around him but... what if he didn’t have to?  
  
What if there was someone that already understood, even if it’s just a small part of it?  
  
Would that change anything?  
  
Connor didn’t know and that’s what made him get up from the bench and walk back home. Made him put the pills back into the cabinet, get into bed and pull the sheets around himself tightly until the chill of the night creeped back out of his bones.  
  
Dying could wait until after he got answers.  
  
  
The next day he wakes up in time to eat some breakfast. He ignores whatever his family is saying until it’s time to leave for school.  
  
He ignores the whispers around him as he enters the building and goes towards where he can already see Evan take books out of his locker.  
  
”We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't originally have a note but it does now! Because I didn't want my self advertisement to be underneath every chapter so... yeah
> 
> I'm currently setting up a Discord for everyone that wants to talk about Musical Ships  
> I mean it's also partially to share fanwork with each other but yeah!  
> Here's the link if you feel like joining it  
> https://discord.gg/4dHfjKJ


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General Warning: This fanfic is dealing with a lot of mental health stuff and is written about Connors and Evans perspective (who are both unreliable narrators) so a lot of their thoughts and opinions are very toxic. It started and probably will keep being a vent fic, which means that while I do try to not write them super ooc their mental illnesses aren't 100% accurate to what we know from interviews, additional songs and the musical.
> 
>  That being said I hope you enjoy this chapter and maybe leave a comment because I do thrive on feedback and your opinions/ideas!
> 
> (Also shameless self-promotion: I'm currently working on another Tree Bros fanfic (which ... honestly isn't any less dark) as well as my (at this point 34k) Be More Chill fanfic in case you want to read something a bit longer and a bit fluffier)

Evan is a fundamentally nervous person. Not because he wants to be, he just is.  
  
It hadn’t been as bad when he was younger. Sure he had always been a little odd, had always stuck out just a bit too much but he didn’t feel it quite as much when he was younger.  
  
So maybe he was a picky eater, lots of children were.  
  
And maybe he would get so interested in a topic that he couldn’t stop talking about it for days, weeks, months and had to know everything about it and just generally hyper fixated on it.  
  
But children just get excited so easily right?  
  
And yeah maybe he wasn’t as good at dealing with change as his peers.  
  
Maybe he started crying during overnight stays at birthday parties and maybe his mom had to pick him up every single time because of that until people stopped inviting him.  
  
And okay maybe he sometimes got overwhelmed by the world around him and started drowning everything out and stopped talking but... children were moody. It happened.  
  
It took a while for others to catch on, for them to notice that Evan just interacted with the world differently from them.  
  
But he was shy, he wasn’t the easiest to befriend so he didn’t realize all those things at the same time his peers did.  
  
Then his father left and he wondered what was wrong with him that his father couldn’t love him.  
  
There had to be a reason right?  
  
Of course today Evan knows that he most likely wasn’t responsible for his parents divorce, even if his brain often liked to insinuate otherwise.  
  
Back then however he wasn’t aware of that. All he knew was that his dad left him and his mom and that he loved her so much and that she was so great that she couldn’t have anything to do with it.  
  
So it had to be Evan.  
  
That’s when the anxiety started.  
  
He searched for reasons his dad might have left and he found it in the whispers of his classmates, the way no one interacted with him normally, the way his mom always talked to the parents of the kids he played with to make sure that they understood how to interact with him.  
  
It didn’t happen immediately.  
  
Things just kept piling up and slowly but surely he questioned himself more and more.  
  
Other kids started to make fun of his interests and the intensity with which he talked about them and they talked over him so he learned to shut up. Started being afraid of talking, but more afraid of what would happen if he didn’t speak.  
  
He heard them talk about how weird he was and he just couldn’t figure out what he did wrong, but the embarrassment of reacting wrong made him overthink everything he did.  
  
His mom noticed and he knows she wants to help so badly but his first appointment with a therapist felt like the final nail in his coffin, the ultimate prove that he was defect in some way.  
  
Breathing got harder but he couldn’t talk about it.  
  
Not when his mom was trying so hard to love a broken kid, when she was working herself to the bone for his sake, when she tried so so hard to stay optimistic.  
  
So he swallowed his panic whenever he could and he swallowed the pills that were supposed to fix him (it’s not a matter of fixing, he hears his old therapist say, it’s a matter of making you feel better, of helping you cope).  
  
This probably wasn’t everything, he thinks to himself, there probably is so much more to say about his descent into becoming the mess that he is today. It’s just that he doesn’t want to keep thinking about this.  
  
He didn’t even want to think about this in the first place. He hadn’t meant to get up from the ground with a broken arm and to get caught up in Jared’s insults and he hadn’t meant for his stupid letter to end up with Connor Murphy.  
  
Nothing in his life ever went as planned and for a moment he briefly thinks about sitting in a tree and gazing at the ground and estimating how far up he is.  
  
He thinks of the rules of some pen and paper game he played with Jared back when he didn’t feel the need to point out that they’re not real friends all the time. Thinks about how the damage a character took from falling was generated.  
  
He thinks about sitting in a tree, estimating the height, estimating the damage his character would take if it fell down from this height during a campaign.  
  
There’s bile rising up his throat and he has to hurry to the bathroom because he’s nauseous and he might throw up any second now and his arm starts hurting and he needs to stop thinking about this.  
  
Nothing actually happens. He just stays nauseous and sweaty and uncomfortable.  
  
In a way it sums up his life perfectly.  
  
That’s not constructive thinking, his therapist would say and even then Evan would just nod politely and agree just to end up with the exact same thoughts.  
  
It still wasn’t something Evan wanted to think about in this moment. Actually, therapy was the last thing on this earth he currently wanted to think about, because it was the very thing that made him up in this mess anyway.  
  
If his therapist hadn’t insisted on those letters, if he didn’t have to go to therapy on that day, if he could have just gone straight home and never entered the computer lab none of this would happen.  
  
If he didn’t have to write the stupid letter he’d just be worrying about his mom finding out that he hadn’t ordered food again and not about the fact that Connor Murphy was currently in the possession of something so personal and pathetic that it could actually make Evan visible in the worst way possible if people ever found out about it.  
  
The worst thing was that Evan didn’t actually know Connor, didn’t have any information to go off on whether he would show people that letter or publish it online or any of the other ways it could be used to destroy Evans already messed up existence.  
  
Was Connor the kind of person that wanted to take revenge on Evan for the prank he assumed the letter to be?  
  
Was he the kind of person that would beat him up tomorrow after school?  
  
Or would he just ignore it? Ignore Evan, because to him it was just another instance of someone at school mocking him?  
  
Okay, so maybe he would still be nervous even if he did know Connor better but it wouldn’t be this bad. It probably wouldn’t be bad enough to make him glad that he kept sitting in front of the toilet because his stomach couldn’t decide whether it wanted to keep its content or not.  
  
The uncertainty was horrible and he really had to go take his medication because his thoughts had been spiralling out of control for a while now and he wasn’t even sure what was going on around him and he just had to go and take his medication so the contents of the letter and all the what if’s and everything else would maybe stop getting louder and louder.  
  
The sensations of standing up and leaving the bathroom hardly even reach him over the feeling of his heart hammering against his chest as if it finally had enough of keeping someone as worthless as him alive.  
  
He could understand that.  
  
The water he downed his pills with was stale and made him feel sick again for a moment.  
  
What if he’d end up like Connor?  
  
Not just someone people whispered about when they thought he couldn’t hear him and instead someone that was greeted by mocking comments as soon as they entered the bulding.  
  
Not being seen was horrible but there was a difference between being invisible and being replaced by some empty shell of who people wanted you to be.  
  
Because that’s what the Connor he knew was right?  
  
Evan couldn’t remember ever really having talked to Connor before this day. He didn’t remember Connor talking in class, or even really thinking about him.  
  
He has heard rumors, of course, because how could he not with his only friend (family-friend, there was a difference) being Jared.  
  
He has seen him in the hallway sometimes, probably.  
  
The medication slowly started to kick in, slowing down all the thoughts that had been racing through his head, spreading a comfortable numbness in his head.  
  
There was no place to notice it before when his whole head was filled with anxious screaming but it was actually really sad.  
  
Not having talked to someone before didn’t stop Evan from noticing things about people, from at least forming his own opinion about a person.  
  
And yet he hadn’t ever spared Connor a second thought, hadn’t ever wondered about what kind of person he might actually be, because why would he? There was a version of Connor Murphy everyone knew right there and it was so easy to just accept that one.  
  
It didn’t match up with what happened in the computer lab though.  
  
He hadn’t seemed like someone that was just a genuinely bad person. The opposite actually.  
  
So, he had pushed him and raised his voice and made Evan panic enough that he spend a very long time in his bathroom wondering if he was going to throw up, but that wasn’t all there was to it, right?  
  
It was hard to notice while he was busy freaking out about sudden social interaction he hadn’t prepared for and the time after when he was busy generally freaking out but it felt different now.  
  
Sure, it might just be the fact that his medication makes him feel kind of detached from everything and generally numbs everything (and maybe he should mention that to Dr Sherman, was it supposed to do that?).  
  
At the same time it might not just be that.  
  
Because why would Connor have signed his cast and tried to be nice in his own weird way if he was just some angry monster?  
  
What if he lashed out in the same way Evan started to panic and just make stuff up to avoid conflict?  
  
The thought didn’t let him go now that it appeared and it made Evan want to do something. First of all getting the letter back because even if Connor didn’t do anything with it was still a source of panic. After that however! Evan didn’t know what to do yet.  
  
It’s not like he could just go up to Connor and talk to him, you know, like a normal person.  
  
What would he even say anyway?  
  
“Hi. I’m Evan and you probably already know that and also could you maybe give back that letter you took yesterday? It’s for my therapy and it wasn’t supposed to mock you. That being said, are you actually an asshole or did you mean the thing about pretending to be friends because I feel bad about not actually knowing anything about you.“  
  
Obviously, that would go so well and not end in utter humiliation.  
  
The next day Evan wishes he hadn’t thought about talking to Connor and provoked the universe to make it happen.  
  
”We need to talk.“  
  
No, no they really didn’t, but there was no way to say that without causing a scene so Evan just let’s out a choked „Okay“. His voice cracked in a way that made him wince and earned him an expression from Connor that he couldn’t place at all.  
  
He wasn’t prepared for this.


	3. Chapter 3

The thing about postponing suicide out of a whim, because you just suddenly decided to confront someone about a really fucked up letter, is that it's not a situation anyone ever prepares you for.  
  
Connor wasn't a socially adept person on the best of days. He might have been once upon a time, back when he still knew just when to smile to make adults swoon about how cute he was, when he still knew how to tell jokes that would make others laugh with him instead of about him. Those days, however, were over. Brutally murdered by the people that isolated him until he was completely out of the loop on how to act in a way that wouldn't make him be labelled as a freak.

Still, it was pretty unlikely that he would know what to do even if he were a social butterfly, so at least his lack of social skills didn't really matter in this situation. Sure, they might have told him to not start a conversation with a nervous person with the most anxiety inducing sentence known to man, but it could have gone worse.  
  
Doesn't mean that it didn't bother him; not being able to ask anyone how this kind of situation should be handled.  
  
How does one talk to the person they blew up at just a day before and how does one even begin to talk about a letter that might have been a prank or the most depressed, borderline suicidal thing one had ever heard outside of their own head?  
  
Maybe that was just a part of his life. The fact that he couldn't ever explain anything and the fact that no one else was able to explain anything to him. Maybe he was just supposed to live in this vacuum where he would never be able to reconcile himself with the world around him. Not like any of those thoughts would actually help him right now, even more so because they kept wanting to gush out of him since his walk back from the park.  
  
He had kind of anticipated the need to puke once he had settled on using the pills but he didn't think it would become some kind of stupid parallel to his need to word-vomit at anyone or anything that would listen, would care. He preferred real puke. He really did. At least with real puke he never bothered with keeping it in, the thought of being able to inconvenience someone usually made him at least feel some amount of schadenfreude.  
  
His desire to word-vomit didn't do that. It just made him bite his lips to keep anything from spilling out.   
  
Potentially that was why he started the conversation so horrendously. He was stuck somewhere between wanting to say too much, talk before he lost the nerve and wanting to suppress everything. Either way he wasn't prepared for what was to come when he walked up to Evan Hansen and he still wasn't prepared when he told him that they need to talk.  
  
He did vaguely feel bad for Evan when he was barely even able to choke out a reply. At least they were apparently both good in making the other feel bad without meaning to, whether it was through letters or words. That was another thing they seemed to have in common, another thing Connor wouldn't have to explain.   
  
__"Sometimes the things I say and do come out wrong and I can't take them back even though I want to."__ _ _  
__ _ _  
__ _ _"Sometimes I don't think before I speak because I'm afraid that if I think about it too much I might never say anything."__  
  
At some point since yesterday he had started a mental list filled with thoughts like these.   
  
Things Connor wanted to say. Things he wanted to ask Evan about. Did he feel the same way? Would he understand?   
  
He couldn't actually make himself voice any of those thought, not yet. Not before they talked about the letter.   
  
However, he should probably say something instead of just... kind of starring at Evan. After all, he had just stalked up to Evan out of nowhere, demanded they talk and then freaked both of them out with that. He should probably explain that the sentence wasn't meant to be threatening or anything.   
  
Connor hadn't ever been in a fight anyway and considering that Evan was able to climb trees Connor would probably lose pretty badly and wouldn’t that just be exactly what he needed right now? School freak Connor getting decked in the face by the meekest person around, it would fuel the rumour-mill for months to come. At least Evan would have the decency to apologize afterwards, unlike a lot of other people that would like to pick a fight with Connor.  
  
The thought was both ridiculous and pathetic and made Connor finally give in to the urge to fiddle with the strap of his bag. He had to stop spacing out while starring at Evan, so he shifted his eyes a bit to the side, sighing in the process.  
  
"Um that wasn't meant to be... threatening." Connor mumbled, trying his damn hardest to just look anywhere that wasn’t Evan and ideally also not anyone else’s face. "Let's just go outside for a moment, okay?"  
  
Evan stood rigid, probably had been standing like that for a while now and his eyes were wide, while his hands were at the hem of his polo-shirt. It was blue but slightly grey, as if it's been washed a few times too many, outlived it's use just a bit and the hem was already slightly frayed. It looked well loved to Connor, a bit like his own jacket.   
  
They stood in silence for another tense second, Evan looking around them rapidly in a way that Connor recognized from himself. (When had he even started looking at Evan again?) He was assessing their surroundings, listening intently to everything that was said around them. There was a tension in Evans neck and eyes that betrayed his nervousness, how much he cared about what others thought. It felt wrong to look at him while his emotions were on display like that, as if Connor was imposing on a very personal moment.  
  
"That's- Okay. Okay let's go. I just need to-" Evan made some vague hand gestures at his locker, cringed and started pushing books in his backpack haphazardly, banging the locker shut afterwards. For a moment Connor was nearly impressed but he figured that it was probably an accident when Evan cringed and started looking around them self-consciously again. He didn’t really seem like the type for teenage rebellion via smashing lockers anyway.   
  
They made their way outside after that with Connor leading their way as they tried to wave their way through the stragglers of students that were still arriving. Connor could feel that Evan was sticking close; he was a warm presence behind his back and probably the only one who's eyes weren't currently on Connor. He didn't have the nerves to check his hypothesis though, he just wanted to get out and breath without being stared at.   
  
He felt like a time-bomb sometimes with everyone looking at him as if he was about to lash out. It made it hard to remember that he could be more than that. It made it hard to control himself when it didn’t make a difference anyway.  
  
The warm summer air hit him in the face as soon as they opened the doors to the courtyard and he felt the tension in his shoulders fade together with the chatting of the student population. He hadn't even noticed all the tension before, despite knowing that it was probably there.   
  
Together with the warmth came the sunshine, which would have been nice if it wasn’t shining directly into his eyes so Connor walked towards a tree off in the shade. He turned around to look at Evan once he arrived and saw that he was just a few paces behind. His steps were jerky and he looked uncomfortably sweaty, the whole display made Connor cringe in sympathy.  
  
Someone should really put the both of them out of their misery and since Connor started the conversation he figured that it would probably have to be him.  
  
„So... I’m going to keep this short. Did you write this to mock me?“ He holds out the crinkled letter, suddenly extremely self-conscious about the state it was in and the fact that Evan would be able to notice how often Connor had read it.   
  
“No! No that’s not what- it’s not- It wasn’t meant for you.“ Evan had actually taken a step towards Connor while speaking, his hands moving in a frantic staccato. Bold, yet nervous. It seemed fitting in a weird way.  
  
“What the fuck is it supposed to be then? Because let’s be honest it just doesn’t sound good. Like-“ His hands were on the letter, smoothing out the crinkles a bit so he could read the line that stuck out to him the most. „This part ‘would anyone even notice if I just disappeared tomorrow’. I know I said this already but it’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard so just... What does it mean?“  
  
Connor had tried to not sound accusing but he figured that he probably failed at it by how white Evan’s skin had become. His eyes had that far away look, as if he was trying really hard to be somewhere else, anywhere else.  
  
They didn’t say anything for a moment. That was fine, annoying but fine because Connor knew he would have to give Evan time now if he wanted something akin to an honest answer.  
  
“You- You know it’s kind of a funny story because- My friend- I mean my family-friend Jared keeps calling them ‘weird sex letters’- Which they’re not! That’s not what they are! They’re just these letters that I have to- am supposed to write for therapy? But not like- They’re not supposed to be like that. They’re supposed to be positive? It’s just that- I’m not-“  
  
“You’re just not positive because your life is fucked up and nobody seems to care or see it except for you?“   
  
It was physically painful to see Evan force out all those words in what must have been a record speed, which was what initially prompted Connor to interrupt him. But then Evan let out a long breath and his shoulders sagged as if someone had just cut the strings that held him and Connor felt like maybe for once he hadn’t fucked up by talking.  
  
“Yeah. Something like that, I guess.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't actually think I'd get around to updating so quickly but the comments on the last two chapters (as well as on my other DEH fanfic) just motivated me a lot? Also writing on the bus is way more productive than just sitting around.
> 
> Also fun-fact: I actually have a whole document just for canon dialogue etc. and noticed that at least in the first few scenes Evan doesn't actually stutter according to the script (even though it is very popular for him to do it in fanfics). He usually just restarts his sentences a lot when he's nervous, which is what he'll be doing here too.   
> I'm generally trying to make my dialogue more accurate to the original but honestly I just struggle with it so... We'll see how it goes!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter that wasn't 90% flashbacks and the first snippet of interaction between those two and have a good day!


	4. Chapter 4

The thing about writing a very depressed letter for therapy that was then stolen by an angry person that you then decided to talk to in the morning is that it’s a situation no one ever prepares you for.  
  
Evan wasn’t a socially adept person on the best of days. He probably hadn’t ever been, but being small and anxious usually at least made adults think that he was cute. Other kids were a different thing and Evan couldn’t really remember if he ever actually knew how to behave or if people just went along with him either way.  
  
Still, it was pretty unlikely that he would know what to do even if he fit in better, so at least he wasn’t the only one that behaved strangely when faced with this particular problem. Sure, other people might not freeze up because of a sentence that sounds just a little bit too vague and menacing, but it could have gone worse.  
  
At least that’s what he kept trying to tell himself. Wishing himself out of the situation, as well as cursing his fate hadn’t helped yet so what was left other than trying to accept it anyway?  
  
That doesn’t mean that it didn’t bother him; not being able to ask anyone how this kind of situation should be handled.  
  
How does one explain the contents of a very personal letter that wasn’t a prank to a person that just seemed very paranoid about that kind of thing? Also how does one do that while being very very anxious and sweaty?  
  
He didn’t know.  
  
He never knew.  
  
He was always just blindly stumbling through interactions hoping to get out of them alright.  
  
Or maybe he had just closed his eyes to reduce the amount of overstimulation the bright artificial lights in the school caused whenever he got too nervous.  
  
He had indeed closed his eyes at some point, but opening them didn’t help with his metaphorical blindness. It still had to be enough for now, even if the light just added to the feeling of „too much“.  
  
Connor was standing in front of him now, which was new. He had just been stalking up to Evan earlier, probably the point at which Evan had stopped dead in his tracks and closed his eyes to just not deal with this.  
  
He was kind of swaying up and down, always raising his heels slightly just to put them back down again in a rhythm Evan couldn’t quite figure out. It looked steady though, the pacing never changed and for some reason it calmed Evan down a bit. It reminded him of stimming and the calming monotony of simple actions.  
  
Evan didn’t know that such a nervous gesture could look so calm on Connor.  
  
And he was nervous, Evan could see that. His shoulders where raised a bit, as if he tried to make himself smaller than he was and he hunched over a bit too. His gaze kept falling on Evan for a moment and then he’d quickly look somewhere else just to look back again and repeat the process.  
  
Then his hands settled on the strap of his bag and even though the situation was still overwhelming and the weight of other peoples stares still made Evan want to disappear he felt like it would be okay, maybe.  
  
“Um that wasn’t meant to be... threatening.“  
  
Evan believed that a bit. He hadn’t at first. Connor walking up to him, demanding to talk to him was the perfect fodder for his anxiety, but it was so hard to hold on to those feelings when the Connor in front of him right now seemed so much like Evan. Nervous, not sure what he’s doing and even more unsure about how to do it right.  
  
Between all the people who were probably starring at them, who’s gaze weighed on Evan and made him want to run away, the hesitant looks Connor gave him seemed... safe. Not as if they could stop him from worrying about the world around them but a bit like he didn’t have to worry about Connor.  
  
“Let’s just go outside for a moment, okay?“  
  
He had to make a choice now.  
  
He couldn’t keep standing still, he couldn’t keep hiding in his brain forever.  
  
But Evan wasn’t a brave person and Connor might give the impression that there was more to him right now but there wasn’t more to Evan. Even if he managed to explain himself and even if they got along at some point Connor would realize that Evan was just... Evan. Someone nobody cared about because he was just this human shaped thing filled with anxiety and the need to self destruct.  
  
At the same time maybe...  
  
He looked around them frantically, searching the crowd for faces he new. He didn’t want Jared to see this and ruin it before Evan had the chance of ruining it and the conformation that people weren’t paying as much attention to them as his anxiety kept insisting on also helped, even if it didn’t remove the phantom sensation of having hundreds of eyes on him.  
  
It was now or never, before Connor decided that he was fed up with waiting and just walked away. Evan wouldn’t be able to blame him for that, if he could Evan would walk away from himself all the time. Even though it probably hadn’t been that long  at all. Tense moments just often appeared to be so much longer than they actually were even more so when Evan got lost somewhere between sensory overload and the need to reply.  
  
“That’s- Okay. Okay let’s go. I just need to-“ The hand gestures were unplanned and he couldn’t take them back and he had already messed up. It was frustrating and he hadn’t planned on letting it out on his books and the locker but he did and everything he did just made it worse and his face probably did something weird as a reaction and-  
  
Connor just... smiled? Evan wasn’t sure and the next moment Connor was already walking away, leaving Evan to hurry after him.  
  
He tried to keep close, but not creepy close, which was a lot harder than Evan had anticipated because the students around him kept nearly pushing him into Connor, which he really really didn’t want to happen.  
  
It was a relief when they got outside and Evan could just fall back a few steps without loosing sight of Connor and take a deep breath and then another, because his breathing had gone funny in the hallway and he should probably do something about that.  
  
He should probably do something about his everything. Did he walk correctly? Was he slouching too much? What if he seemed creepy or too uncomfortable? What if he somehow made Connor misunderstand him? He had called him creepy the day before right, so what if he-  
  
Connor was looking at him and he had that expression again that Evan just couldn’t place. It was gone quickly, replaced by a cringe that pretty much confirmed that something Evan did was weird. He didn’t know what but at least that was the only consequence of it so far. He could live with that. Probably. Just standing was easier anyway, right?  
  
It wasn’t.  
  
“So... I’m going to keep this short. Did you write this to mock me?“  
  
Evan wasn’t sure if that was a fair question, because even if he had written it as a prank it wasn’t like he would be able to just tell Connor. Who in their right mind would admit to that? Also the letter hadn’t been that crumpled yesterday, right?  
  
_He knows_ , a horrible part of Evans brain said, but he wasn’t brave enough to face it.  
  
He had to say something, anything to get out of this situation. He had to keep Connor from knowing, it didn’t matter if he felt a little bit safer than other people, he had to keep him from knowing, knowing... what exactly?  
  
“No! No that’s not what- it’s not- It wasn’t meant for you.“  
  
Maybe that would be enough and Connor would just drop it and then they could back to not knowing each other because this wasn’t good. The letter was crumpled and Connor had a whole day to read it again and again and figure out how much of a mess Evan was and that wasn’t- that couldn’t happen.  
  
“What the fuck is it supposed to be then?“ He knew.  
  
“Because let’s be honest it just doesn’t sound good.“ _He knew._ __  
__  
_“_ Like- This part ‘would anyone even notice if I just disappeared tomorrow. I know I said this already but it’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard so just...“ ****He knew.**** **** **  
********  
**“What does it mean?“  
  
His blood felt like ice in his veins and Evan could feel the bile rising up again together with the panic. This wasn’t good, Connor couldn’t know. Nobody could know but if he just kept quiet now then Connor would assume that he was right and that wasn’t good either. __  
  
He couldn’t let Connor see the worst of him, but pretending that it was some kind of joke wasn’t a possibility either. The only way to keep him from figuring it all out was to- to make a sacrifice. Admit to part of it, make it seem like it’s not as bad as it sounds.  
  
“You- You know it’s kind of a funny story-“  
It wasn’t. It was a horrible story and Evan knew it and yet he kept recycling that phrase as if anyone would agree with him.  
  
“ because- My friend- I mean my family-friend Jared keeps calling them ‘weird sex letters’-“  
Why did he even mention that? Why couldn’t he ever just relax and stop vomiting words all over himself.  
  
“-Which they’re not! That’s not what they are! They’re just these letters that I have to- am supposed to write for therapy? But not like- They’re not supposed to be like that.“  
Evan wasn’t supposed to be like that either but he was, so of course his letters would reflect that. Evan didn’t get to take a break from himself, everything he did just had to rub in his face how much of a mess he was.  
  
“They’re supposed to be positive? It’s just that- I’m not-“  
_It’s just that I’m a mess. I’m not a positive person and I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m not able to be positive, because it doesn’t make a difference anyway because I fail at anything I do. It’s just that nothing I do matters to people anyway, because I have to pay someone to care. It’s just that nobody is even there to see if I’m trying to be positive, so what does it matter? I can’t even die-_ __  
__  
“You’re just not positive because your life is fucked up and nobody seems to care or see it except for you?“  
  
For a moment Evan was sure he had just said all those thoughts out loud, but he couldn’t have. Connor had interrupted him during his sad attempt at explaining himself without actually explaining himself.  
  
It took the wind out of his sails. This wasn’t one of the situations his anxiety had come up with but that was good right?  
  
He didn’t have to come up with an explanation anymore and Connor knew... something but it seemed weirdly okay? Like maybe if this wasn’t enough to make Connor hate him than maybe one day it would be fine for Evan to just stop hiding the ugly parts of himself. Or, well, the uglier parts. The ugliest parts, the once that he couldn’t explain away with studies of teenage depression being on the rise.  
  
“Yeah. Something like that, I guess.“  
  
And Connor just nodded. Connor nodded and sat down in front of the tree and awkwardly patted the space next to him with his hand before he started ripping out some of the grass around him.  
  
So Evan sat down too, even though he knew that class would probably start soon. It just seemed like the right thing to do and he didn’t have the energy to go and attend school now anyway.  
  
“It’s not a funny story actually.“ It comes out quiet, a bit breathy and exhausted.  
  
“Yeah I- I figured, sorry. We uhm- We don’t have to like talk about it you know? Life fucking sucks and it’s too early for this emotional shit anyway.“  
  
It really wasn’t funny. Except that it was, because Connor sounded awkward and he kept looking between Evan and the grass he was ripping up clumsily and it just stood in a stark contrast to how casual his words tried to sound. A huff of laughter escaped Evan, barely there and yet still enough to make Connor look at him again with slightly wide eyes.  
  
“Good... good point. Even though it’s kind of always too early for emotional shit if you ask me.“  
  
Connor stopped looking quite as frantic and when Evan started piling the grass Connor ripped up on his legs he even smiled a bit.  
  
“Shit, you’re right.“  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... updating a lot more quickly than I planned to? Which is probably good, I think
> 
> So already again thanks to the people that commented on the last chapter (I'll go answer the comments after uploading too)  
> And I just really hope you enjoyed reading a bit more of their first interaction.
> 
> The content of the conversation wasn't anywhere near as angsty as the thoughts surrounding it but I feel like that fits them. There's just a lot of stuff the both of them would rather leave unsaid or don't know how to voice and right now they're generally just testing the waters. (At least that's why I wrote it the way I did, whether it makes sense when you read it is another thing entirely)
> 
> Anyway I just hope you enjoyed the chapter and have a good day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to have like 30% more internal angst

 How did this happen?

That’s the thought that goes through Connor Murphys head as he’s sitting in front of a tree together with Evan Hansen who’s currently piling the grass Connor is ripping up on his jeans.

The pile was big enough that the grass kept felling down right after being put on top of it, but Evan didn’t seem to mind that. Connor didn’t either if he was quite honest.

It was the most at peace Connor has felt in a very long time, which might be the most peculiar part of the situation. Hadn’t he thought about killing himself just the day before? It felt so far away in that moment, all that anger and hurt and hopelessness.

The sun was shining and the bell had rung a while ago and Evan was still sitting next to him, smiling softly to himself as he leaned back against the tree and took a deep breath. Connor probably looked similar, he could feel the tiny upturn of his lips and the pleasant warmth made him let go of some of the tension that seemed to be everpresent in him. It was so different from everything Connors life had been like lately.

People where never quiet or happy around him. They always had something to say and most of the time it was about him and usually they didn’t say it but rather spat it at him. His presence just wasn’t wanted, ever. The only time he ever was ‘wanted’ was when people felt the need to make fun of him.

Then again, he was the same. He wasn't ever really happy and he always had something bad to say about himself, most of it worse than anything he heard other people say. So maybe it was fair that the people around him would reflect that.

Connor just wasn't a good person, he radiated something toxic and sucked the joy out of everything he touched or even so much as looked at and he was aware of that fact.

So why hadn’t Evan left yet? Surely he wasn’t the type to cut class casually. He didn’t seem like someone that just hung out with the school freak either.

Despite all those doubts, a part of Connor still hoped that Evan stayed for the same reason that he did; that he felt comfortable around him, that he felt something like kinship between them. They both wanted to be heard, to have people that cared about them, that would notice if they were gone.

But could Connor even be that kind of person? Was he capable of making anyone feel comfortable? Would he be able to care about anyone?

He ruined everything he touched and Evan deserved better. Connor shouldn't rope Evan into his desperate attempt at being something he just couldn't be. If he cared for Evan he would get up right now and leave before he could ruin him more than life already did.

A part of him said it didn’t matter. Nobody would ever care about him or like him anyway, so why did he worry about how he behaved now? It wouldn’t change anything. It didn't matter how many people he ruined; he wouldn't be around for the consequences anyway. There was no place for regret in death.

There was a park bench waiting for him.

He crossed his arms and starred at the grass on his jeans, his jaw felt tight, as if he was going to shatter his teeth with the pressure any second how. That was fine, if he managed to shatter his teeth then maybe they couldn’t identify his body later and then he could finally stop being Connor.

Pulling his legs up against his chest caused the grass to fall down and for some reason it made him feel even worse. He couldn't hold on to good things, he always ruined it without thinking about it.

“Do you- Are you okay?“ Evan asked softly from his spot next to him. „Wait, no, that’s a stupid question isn’t it? Sorry I don’t- I’m so bad at this. I’m sorry.“ 

He doesn’t care.

He's just trying to be polite.

The only reason he hasn't left yet is that he's afraid because Connor is a dangerous freak that forces people with problems to interact with him just because he can.

He didn't care and he wouldn't ever care and it was pathetic and delusional to think that he would.

But was it really so horrible to pretend like Evan did care? Connor was already pathetic, so did hanging on to this for another moment really matter?

Evan sounded like he did care, maybe. Granted, he also sounded extremely nervous and like he expected something bad to happen any moment but that seemed to be his default setting so far.

“Peachy.“ Connor spat it without meaning to. He just... wanted Evan to care, give him a reason to believe that he cared. 

“I know we uh- we said that it was too early for emotions and I might- I probably am overstepping boundaries? But you really- You don’t seem ‘peachy’ is what I’m trying to say.“

Connor clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath.

That could be Connor's proof but something kept insisting that Evan didn't care.

That he might sound like he did, but he didn't because nobody cared about Connor Murphy.

But Connor didn't want to lash out. He didn't want to believe those thoughts right now, so he wouldn’t tell Evan to mind his own business.

There was no reason to get defensive. Or maybe there was and then he could still get angry later, but he hadn't asked Evan to talk just to do everything the same way he always did.

He wanted a chance at doing this right and he had to be vulnerable to do that. At least he thought he did. Everything sounded the same to him right now, nothing made sense.

“Do you ever have a good time and then your brain suddenly decides that you’re not allowed to feel okay?“ It comes out a lot quieter than Connor wanted it to, he can't remember the last time he sounded like that.

Evan chokes out an uncomfortable laugh and for a moment Connor is sure that he has judged Evan and the entire situation wrong. That he was just a really good actor and this was the point where he laughed at Connor and decided to go tell everyone that he was a crazy freak.

“I mean the last time that happened I uh jumped from a tree so? Yes, definitely.“

That... wasn’t what Connor had expected and neither did Evan if the way all color was draining from his face was anything to go by. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost and Connor couldn't even see him breathe until he started talking again.

“Did I say- I mean fell! I had a good time climbing and then fell, because the uh- the branch broke.“ he was sputtering and looked as if he was about to run away, as if he could run away from the things he said and done.

Connor knew that feeling, he knew it so deeply that it made him ache to recognize it in Evan.

“I tried to down a bottle of pills yesterday.“ It just came out. It wasn’t what Connor had meant to say, he had wanted to say something comforting. But he couldn’t take it back either, just like Evan couldn’t.

But it seemed to have done the trick, because at least Evan was looking at him again. He seemed to see the world around him again instead of sinking deeper and deeper into his thoughts.

It still wasn't a comfortable situation.

Now Evan, who had been avoiding Connors gaze the whole time, was starring at him with wide eyes, the shock written all over his face, though whether it was about his or Connors admission he couldn’t tell. Probably a combination of the two.

 What where they supposed to do now? Was there a protocol for how to behave after admitting your own suicides to each other by accident? Was Connor supposed to explain himself? Because if yes, that would be the most ironic thing, considering he originally wanted to talk to Evan in the hopes of not having to explain it.

Evans face slowly lost its ghostly hue during the brief silence between them and Connor was endlessly grateful for it. Seeing Evan look so dead after his admission felt just a tad disturbing and it unsettled Connor.

“What stopped you?“ Evan asks after a while, but he asks it so quietly and hesitantly that Connor wasn’t sure he had heard it at all.

He could probably pretend that he didn't and just not answer. 

For some reason Connor just knew that Evan wouldn't force him to say anything and it actually made Connor want to talk about it.

He wouldn't force him to be honest either. Connor had so many reactions to choose from. From lies to accusations and yelling and threats, everything was possible and Evan would probably think that he deserved it.

God, Connor couldn't do it. For once the thought of making someone else feel responsible didn't make him feel better or less guilty. He couldn't do that to Evan, not right now, maybe not ever.

“Um... your letter actually.“ The truth still didn't come easy to Connor. He was bad at lying, but hiding behind rage wasn't lying and he was good at that, so good that at some point it seemed to have become the default to him.

“Why- How did that make you- make you reconsider? I felt like dying just writing it.“ Evan sounded incredulous, as if the idea that neither of them died from reading that letter was a huge government conspiracy or something equally ridiculous.

Connor snorted, a bit from amusement, a bit to hide how close to home that thinking hit. „Honestly? That’s pretty much the reason. I read it and thought ‘this sounds so fucked it could be from me’ and I just felt like- I don’t fucking know like maybe we could get each other. Help each other feel seen or some poetic bullshit like that.“

At that, Evan let himself fall back against the tree with an audible thump. It sounded painful and Connor didn’t quite get how Evan managed to not visibly react to what must have been an at least slightly painful collision. Maybe that’s just what jumping from a tree did to you. Somehow Connor didn’t want to think about that.

“That is the saddest thing I have ever heard.“ Evan says in a dead serious voice from his spot at the tree.

It came so unexpected that Connor hits himself in the face with his hair from how quickly he turns around to look at Evan. There was hair everywhere now, in his eyes and mouth and it didn't matter at all because all he could think of was whether he just heard that right. Did he just-

“Did you just quote me? And in response to my suicide attempt at that?“ It was rude, so incredibly rude it actually made Connor smile through the last strands hair that still stuck to his face.

“Wait- Shit- I didn’t think of that- Sorry that wasn’t- I’m so sorry!“ Apparently the rudeness had caught up to Evan, who was already abandoning his comfortable position against the tree again to look at Connor and lean towards him, as if being closer would help show his sincerity.

In a way it did, Connor thought while he finally removed the hairs from his face. He could only ignore them for so long and it gave him an excuse to not reply immediately.

“I wasn’t mad Evan.“ He tries to sound calm, show Evan that he didn’t have to worry. It seemed to work a tiny bit since Evan stopped looking quite as frantic, didn't clench the hem of his shirt quite as tightly. „I was impressed and honestly also shocked that you even remembered that.“

“How am I- How could I forget that?“ At first Evan just seemed confused, but then he started laughing and it was a weirdly beautiful sound. „You basically said what I was thinking all summer so-“

Ouch.

“God.“ Connor didn’t know why he started laughing too. All things considered their conversation was pretty sad, but he has never heard anyone but himself say things like that. It was so unexpected; that Evan would say that and then laugh about it. „We’re kind of fucked up, aren’t we?“

Apparently, Evan didn’t think that it was necessary to comment on that. He just shrugs at Connor with a crooked smile and in a way that’s probably answer enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this isn't what I thought this chapter would go like?  
> My original plan was for Connor to give back the letter and then they were supposed to talk a bit but then this happened and I'm... not actually unhappy about it.
> 
> In a way it feels a bit rushed to have Evan admit to this here but at the same time I just feel like Connor creates a kind of atmosphere where Evan feels safe admitting stuff like that? Mostly without thinking about it tho. 
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoyed the chapter anway and as always thanks to the people that commented!! It's always amazing to read your guys thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Connor sitting under a tree, talking about trees. It's the bonding over trees chapter.

How did one react to just mutually admitting suicide attempts to each other and then laughing about how messed up they were?  
  
Connor felt like that wasn’t really a situation you were usually prepared for, not like getting bad grades and talking about those or complaining about a horrible teacher together. It felt just as casual to him in the moment, just another shitty thing to laugh about with someone who understood him but that in itself was a rarity.  
  
When was the last time someone actually got Connor and his feelings? It felt like it had been ages ago, maybe back when he was a small child, back when Zoe and he lamented about not getting a second serving of dessert.  
  
All in all it wasn’t a common situation in any way, yet it turned out weirdly well in his eyes.  
  
Evan shrugged at him with a crooked smile, resting his head against the tree behind them, his gaze lifting upwards to the sky and the tree branches that were spreading outwards above them. His fingers played with the hem of his shirt again, but the act lacked it’s past franticness and instead just looked casual. Maybe a little part of Evan was always moving, compensating for whatever went on inside his mind.  
  
Did he behave in a similar way, Connor wondered. He’d have to be more conscious of himself, which wasn’t usually something he liked to be and yet he wanted to in that moment, wanted to discover more similarities between them. Maybe if there were enough, Evan would have a reason to stay.  
  
It was such a desperate thought, wanting Evan to be around so badly after having talked to him once and barely even knowing him but what if he was Connors only chance at making a connection?  
  
Not wanting to dwell on the thought further just then Connor closed his eyes in frustration, trying to relax again and fall back into the easy mood they had shared and for once it seemed to work. There was a gentle breeze that played with his hair and spread around the grass he had ripped out earlier, taking his negative thoughts with it.  
  
The quiet stretched on for a while, until Connor heard Evan speak softly besides him.  
  
“I worked as a park ranger during summer vacation and sometimes, when there wasn’t a lot of people around, I would just look for a nice tree and relax like this too. I really- It was... really nice.“ Evan sounded serene and happy and Connor instantly decided that he wanted to hear Evan talk like that more often.   
  
“That sounds really fucking nice. My family used to visit this um... Orchard when I was younger but this summer I usually just- I don’t know- locked myself in my room? Tried to disappear?“ and with that Connor winced and immediately wished he had just shut up and not said anything. Why were conversations so hard?  
  
“I- I know what you mean.“ Evan chuckled uncomfortably. „That’s what I would have done too but my mom- she keeps getting worried when I do that. So I- Being with trees sounded better than that, dealing with her disappointment.“  
  
Yeah no, Connor didn’t like the direction this was taking. They’ve had enough negativity today and he wanted to hear Evan being happy again, so a change of topic was direly needed.  
  
“So you just like trees or what?“ It was probably a poor attempt but it would have to do. Plus, Connor was actually curious about it, had been since Evan mentioned his job. After all, which teenager nowadays willingly spend their summer alone in some park? Maybe Connor would have too, if he hadn’t taken to wallowing in self-pity so much.  
  
“Yes? I mean, not to brag, but I’m kind of a tree expert-“ Evan sounded so proud that it broke what little was left of Connors heart when he suddenly deflated and seemed utterly shamefaced again when he continued. „Not that- Not that it’s actually something to brag about. Who would want to know things about trees, am I right?“  
  
“Um... I would? I mean I don’t know anything about trees but I’d be interested if- if you wanted to share some of that knowledge with me that is.“  
  
It was hard to guess what went on inside Evans head in that moment Connor decided. He tried to sound genuine but it wasn’t hard to see in that moment that Evan was probably used to being mocked about things he enjoyed as well.   
  
“That’s offer genuine, you know.“  
  
Maybe adding that would help, Connor didn’t know. He doubted there was anything that could be said to appease him one he distrusted someone’s intentions and he could only hope that it was different for Evan or that he somehow saw how honest Connor was.   
  
Sure, he didn’t particularly care about trees but Evan seemed to and if listening to him talk about them was all it took to befriend him then by god would Connor listen to tree facts and enjoy it. Who knew, maybe he could even talk about books in return someday, actually have a mutual exchange of interests.  
  
Positive thoughts aside, he couldn’t stand looking at Evan while he waited for his reply. He didn’t want to see the moment he ruined whatever relationship they had been building until now. In fact, Connor felt about ready to just stand up and walk away, forget about how he had embarrassed himself yet again, proven how fucking bad he was at even the simplest things, like showing interest in things others enjoyed.  
  
Lost in thought it took him all his willpower to not visibly startle when next to him Evan hesitantly started talking again.  
  
“Well there’s- One of the trees in the park I worked in are the- the Eastern Hemlocks? And they can live up to a thousand years, can you imagine that? And one of Emily Dickinsons poems might have been inspired by them too! You can make tea out of parts of it too, even though it’s often confused with Poison Hemlock, which is actually poisonous. There’s also a lot more uses for them, for example Native Americans used parts of it to make antiseptics and the like. They’re also great to climb!“  
  
Evan sounded hesitant at first but after a few nods and encouraging smiles from Connor he kept talking, getting more and more enthusiastic as he went along.   
  
Connor actually found that he enjoyed listening to Evan talk about trees, asking some questions here and there to which Evan replied happily until he got distracted by another fact or tree or memory which started the whole process of listening and asking again.  
  
By the end of it Connor knew a lot more about trees than he ever thought he would and he would have gladly kept sitting there for hours if it wasn’t for the school bell that reminded the both of them that they’re were still sitting in the courtyard and had just missed the entire first period.  
  
“We should probably go back in.“ Evan muttered and it was obvious that he dreaded the idea already. It made Connor want to cheer him up again.  
  
“Probably but before that, would it- um... would it be okay to exchange numbers?“ Connor was already pulling his phone out of his pants before he was even done talking.   
  
He handed the slightly cracked device over to Evan, who was starring at him with wide eyes, making Connor wonder if he had just fucked up, overstepped some boundaries he wasn’t aware of. Before he could take his phone back however, Evan was already hesitantly typing in his number and giving the device back to Connor.  
  
The interaction felt awkward but it still made him smile while he got up and offered Evan a hand to pull him up as well.  
  
“So... I guess I’ll write you later?“   
  
“Yes! I mean sure, do that, if you want to that is. You don’t have to if you don’t want to though! I wouldn’t want to- No pressure.“ Evan was already back to nervously stumbling over his own words and it made Connor hope that maybe, at some point, he would make Evan feel comfortable enough to not do it.  
  
“I want to, don’t worry. If you want me to that is? Just... tell me off if you don’t want something?“  
Maybe it would even go both ways, so that Connor could stop being a nervous wreck as well.  
  
They parted ways shortly after that and once Connor was sitting in his biology class, full of people that were staring at him for both being present and being late at once, he already wished that he could just go back to that tree.  
  
At least nobody cared enough about him to stop him from using his mobile in class.  
  
 _Connor Murphy_ : Biology sucks. Your explanations were a lot better, honestly. How do you stand actually attending classes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Kinda! Maybe!
> 
> Real life has been a lot of work as of late so I didn't really have the time to write (or even just spend time chatting to people on discord, hope you peeps are okay!)
> 
> Late update aside I do want to finish this fanfic and I really hope that if anyone who is still reading this will enjoy the chapter!  
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter and also I have no clue where Dear Evan Hansen is supposed to take place? So that tree might not grow anywhere near it, I just found it pretty neat and apparently it grows in some of the Vermont State Parks?  
> So... yep
> 
> Also as pretty much always not proofread because I wanted to upload the chapter as soon as I was done

**Author's Note:**

> Btw! I'm currently setting up a Discord for everyone that wants to talk about Musical Ships  
> I mean it's also partially to share fanwork with each other but yeah!   
> Here's the link if you feel like joining it  
> https://discord.gg/4dHfjKJ


End file.
